“It was a pant skirt that finished me off.” 90s fashion is (already) coming back.

It all started with a lace crop top. It continued with a patent mini bag and a bandana worn like a handkerchief. But the skirt over the pants finished me off. Every young man I meet in the newspaper is like a carbon copy of me and my friends in third grade. Watching them walk down the corridors makes me dive back into the corridors of my Parisian college. I see us as a group giggling in our high-cut jeans ‘like Mariah Carey’, our hair pulled back, leaving just two locks dyed platinum blonde for the bravest, held by glittery butterfly clips and our eyes. pencil in toned blue, with makeup generally stolen from Bon Marché.

I have always heard that fashion is cyclical long before I started working at the magazine. Each decade builds on the previous one, codes are copied and re-adapted. It’s one thing to hear it, another thing to feel it. This first shot of the old fashioned makes me realize that I’m old enough now to have done a nice full tour. Seeing these charming young women, it’s not envy, I’d have to pay a lot to wear a denim midi skirt over dress pants today, but nostalgia that invades me.

Can you wear everything at any age?

First of all, I am surprised. Does fashion have an age? Can you wear everything at any age? And by extension, can we wear the same clothes fifteen years apart? Is it uncomfortable to face these questions when we stand for acceptance of all and shy away from judgmental style? I remember coming in a mini skirt as an intern at the first fashion magazine I worked for. The next day, in the open space, which we called “sakaran”, there was a lot of confusion, because the editor-in-chief, in turn, came in a mini. “It works on you because you’re 22, and it’s funny on him,” they studiously explained to me. I didn’t see the problem at the time. Especially since that editor had great legs. I told myself that he can dress however he wants.

And then, yesterday, seeing a young journalist arriving at an editorial conference in a skater’s miniskirt, I realized. I am not sure that I will dare to go around like that from now on. I’m also not sure that other people’s opinions are that important to me. I have been changing my wardrobe for several years now. I no longer allow myself some materials of questionable quality. I carefully look at the incisions. I gave up fast fashion a long time ago. And, of course, the forms are becoming longer, more “ladylike”. Oh, I still have a ravenous passion for colors, prints, scarves, and lots of earrings. But let’s say I calm down a bit.

Seeing a young reporter arrive at an editorial conference in a skater miniskirt made me realize

This change, which happened gently, is by no means an abdication. It’s a trip. A piece of clothing is put aside for a while, then replaced and donated. I love the idea of ​​something I loved being reinterpreted, even in a way that escapes me, confuses me. It’s fashion too, isn’t it? Good luck shocking us with the things we know.